Taming the Evil Saintess

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I never intended to eavesdrop from the start.

I was just curious, really.

Yurede was having a private conversation with Elliot; who wouldn’t find that interesting?

Ophelia stood outside the Adventurer Guild’s private room, waiting anxiously for their conversation to leak out, but thanks to the soundproofing, she had no clue what was being discussed.

Then came a loud noise.

Bang!

“The Hero’s heart is… but…”

“You, what happened at the Cathedral… Everyone knows, including you… Ophelia’s such a… garbage…”

The disjointed voices were unclear, but one thing was for sure.

They were talking about her.

“What the heck are they going on about?”

Leaving her out like that!

Feeling mischievous, Ophelia cautiously leaned closer to the doorway, straining to listen.

The voices inside became clearer, even the sounds of scuffling could be heard. Chairs were overturned, and Yurede’s groans pierced through.

“Are they… fighting?”

Ophelia couldn’t help but imagine such a scenario. No matter how crazy Yurede was, getting hit by a softy like Elliot wouldn’t leave him with an attractive face.

This needed to be stopped.

Just as she thought to open the door—

“Ah, I see.”

“What are you laughing about?”

“No, I just found it enlightening.”

“What?”

“The Hero truly cares for the Saint Lady, more than the believers of the continent, more than even the God.”

Elliot cared for someone more than anyone else.

Who could it be?

The Saintess.

Well…

“It’s me, isn’t it?”

She was struck by the shocking revelation. While she had been sure that Elliot cared for her over everyone else, hearing it confirmed by him was a first.

Ophelia stood frozen, and her eyes met Yurede’s from across the room.

Then Elliot turned to see her.

As she locked eyes with his transparent gaze, waves of utter humiliation crashed over her—

“Uh, uh, uh…”

The only sound that escaped her mouth in defense was a pathetic stutter.

She hardly remembered anything afterward. She just turned on her heel and bolted.

As Ophelia dashed from the second-floor private room to the ground floor of the Adventurer Guild, she struggled to calm her racing heart.

Azar shot her a questioning glance, but she couldn’t respond.

No, she couldn’t even dare to.

“Ugh! What was that embarrassing conversation they had so casually!”

How would she face Elliot when he came down?

Throwing the handkerchief she clutched aside, Ophelia stomped over to her spot and sat down. Just as she was about to bury her head in her arms on the table—

“…”

Emily Barried, who had been eating across from her, caught her eye.

“…Hmm.”

Her head was a chaotic mess.

Emily was a handful, but she wasn’t useless in terms of support. At the very least, she could offer some realistic advice on the current situation. With that thought, Ophelia called out to Emily.

“Hey, hey!”

“Yes, yes. What’s up?”

Tilting her head, Emily looked curious, and Ophelia whispered to her the conversation she had just overheard. She spoke softly, fearing it might be overheard.

Emily gasped, dropping the glass she was holding. Of course, the clatter was quickly drowned out by the noise of the guild, but the screech she let out was unmistakable.

“Seriously, Elliot said that?”

“Yep.”

Ophelia nodded reluctantly, and Emily grinned as she handed a coin to a nearby server, ordering two cheap mugs of beer.

And then she pushed one toward Ophelia.

“Drink up.”

“If I drink, Elliot will scold me.”

“What does that matter? The Saintess is an adult. You have your own rights, you know?”

“…Is that so?”

“It’s not good to be so tied down. And in situations like this, it’s important to grab the reins like a queen of diplomacy.”

“…Diplomacy? Reins? What are you talking about?”

“Come on, just chug it down.”

As she whispered the rest quietly enough for only Ophelia to hear, Emily carefully lifted her hand to cover her mouth.

“Did you know, Saintess?”

“What is it?”

“Drinking is the best elixir.”

Emily’s eyes sparkled with a light reminiscent of the Grand Archmage.

*

The ruckus with Yurede had subsided ever since Ophelia showed up.

There were still discussions that needed to be had, but the one who had dashed down was now gone.

Besides, Ophelia looked furious. Her flushed face was a testament to that. She was definitely shocked upon hearing Yurede mentioning his aim to become the Pope.

Later, she would need to explain everything properly.

“Anyway.”

I turned to glare at Yurede.

Right now, the matter concerning the Cathedral was of greater importance.

“If you ever spout nonsense about Ophelia being at the center of a religious dispute again, there’ll be no God or anything else left.”

“…That may be so. It was just a casual probe, please do not take it to heart.”

Yurede flashed a harmless smile and magically set the chair that had fallen back upright.

“Then, what method is the Hero devising?”

“Entering the Cathedral.”

“And then?”

“Beat the Pope, Cardinals, and Cathedral Knights to a pulp, and go hunt down the Demon King’s Army we made a deal with.”

“…And what’s next?”

“No next. From there, it’s all on you to figure out.”

I had decided like that.

I had no intention of getting involved in the frustrating disputes of religious zealots.

I cared not for greed for power.

Ophelia should be free, and I simply wanted to support her in that.

So…

“If you plan to hold some worthless standard against Ophelia, just draw your sword and add your strength.”

“…Hahaha.”

Yurede seemed to take a liking to my response as he laughed heartily.

It was the first time he had laughed so hard since I revealed I was the Hero.

As I was feeling a bit taken aback, Yurede pulled out an envelope from within his robe and handed it to me.

“What is this?”

“A small gift for the Hero.”

“A gift?”

I opened the envelope.

Inside were letters from Archbishop Belwin and a detailed map of the Cathedral’s interior.

Information so rare you couldn’t buy it with money. It was clear Yurede had put in a lot of effort to gather this.

“You…”

“I’m planning to head to the Eastern Coast now.”

“Not following along?”

“Of course, I wish I could, but right now the major threat is the Demon King’s Army’s general, Black Water Elgore on the Eastern Coast. After weighing the options, I concluded it’s best to leave the Cathedral to Sir Elliot.”

“…What about the church?”

“If it’s Sir Elliot, he’ll stomp everyone without a second thought, right? I don’t want to get caught in the crossfire and be labeled an accomplice. I’m an Inquisition Officer, not a heretic, you know.”

Listening silently to Yurede, I frowned.

“Then why even talk to Ophelia about becoming the Pope or playing mediator if you weren’t going to follow her?”

“Well…”

Yurede stole a glance at where Ophelia had disappeared down the stairs.

“It’s all part of the Will of God, isn’t it?”

Truly, he was an irritating brat.

*

The conversation had come to a close.

The information Yurede provided would be incredibly useful when we infiltrated the Cathedral.

Once inside, I planned to meet Belwin and ally with the opposing faction within the Cathedral to confront the Pope.

Through the letters sent from Belwin, I had even secured the identity of the Demon King’s Army general that the Cathedral was collaborating with.

“Hell Duke, huh…”

Sounds about right. If you were to name the most cunning general of the Demon King’s Army, it’d include Chimera Sorcerer Idmien in the running.

A troublesome opponent indeed.

Far stronger than the Plague Lord. The Hell Duke’s forces could easily be referred to as the best among the Demon King’s generals.

Thus, the upcoming battle would not resemble the small-scale guerrilla warfare from the time with Vermina; it would escalate into an all-out war.

“…I need allies…”

The first to come to mind was the Red Dragon.

However, running to the volcano right now would be cutting it too close. Just imagining the devastation another rampage from the Red Dragon would wreak in the already cramped Cathedral was unfathomable.

Then…

“Should I call them?”

With a deep sigh, I gathered my last thought before heading to inform everyone of the plan.

As I trudged down the stairs, preparing to relay the news, I was met with chaos on the first floor of the guild.

No table stood upright. Food lay scattered all over the floor. Broken plates and glasses littered the area. The remaining employees appeared to be sniffling as they cleaned up the wreckage.

The only other person remaining was Albrecht, casually sitting atop an overturned table, reading a book.

He glanced up as he closed the book and gave me a wry smile.

“They all ran away.”

“Ran?”

“Well, you know how adventurers can get rowdy. There was a bit of a quarrel at the tavern.”

“Uh, um…”

Could a mere argument cause such a mess?

Did someone draw a sword or something?

No, if they had, Azar or Albrecht—or even the just—Cecilia would have smacked them down immediately.

So what in the world caused the chaos in front of me?

“Hmm.”

I glanced at Albrecht, who had turned his attention back to the book.

“Well, then I’ll just explain my plans next time…”

With no other option, I returned to my room reserved on the third floor.

As I grabbed the doorknob to my private room at the end of the hallway, a presence caught my attention.

I froze for a moment, suppressing my aura.

‘No way…’

The fact that everyone knew the Hero’s party had arrived at the Empire’s territory was common knowledge by now.

The reason for that was undoubtedly the massive figure of Blackie, making it impossible to hide.

So, it was entirely possible that a Demon King’s Army assassin had infiltrated the Empire. Carefully, I placed my hand on the hilt of my sword and opened the door.

When I opened it…

“Ophel…ia?”

There she was, sitting on the bed with a frown, waiting for me.

“This is my room, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is, you idiot.”

Nodding at Ophelia’s words in agreement, I suddenly felt a sense of discomfort.

Her voice sounded somewhat slurred.

At the same time, I caught a whiff of strong alcohol.

“You… did you drink?”

“Yeah. Got a problem with that… hic?”

“Well…”

There were a ton of issues with it.

However, judging by Ophelia’s expression, I felt like bringing it up could lead to a disaster.

Most importantly, her drinking was undoubtedly influenced by my talk with Yurede.

Letting out a deep sigh, I tried to console Ophelia.

“Ophelia, you don’t need to hold anything in. It’s okay if you don’t become the Pope. I’ll make sure it doesn’t come to that. So, just…”

“I said, that’s enough.”

But it seemed that wasn’t what Ophelia was angry about.

She waved her hand dismissively, staring at me with half-closed eyes.

After a moment of silence, she hiccupped and spoke up.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Do you… like me?”

Caught off guard by that sudden question, I froze.